


lotus flower martini

by orphan_account



Category: K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Drinking, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, this is just fluff let's be real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 23:06:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11678997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Wonshik and Hakyeon, after playing a drinking game, have a brilliant idea. But mostly Wonshik."He’s done very little in the way of gay experimentation, considering his longstanding interest. Some obnoxious part of his brain screams shrilly that he should be the one pressing Hakyeon against the mattress, but he’s having such a good time here, letting Hakyeon kiss him. Letting Hakyeon undress him and tell him he’s lovely, he’s pretty, he’s so hot. What a nice body he has, really. Very nice body."





	lotus flower martini

**Author's Note:**

> THREE MONTHS WITHOUT UPLOADING SHE COMES BACK WITH A TAG  
> THAT NO ONE EVEN TAGGED HER IN SHE’S NOT A CHALLENGE TO DRAG
> 
> Really, guys, I’m sorry. I’ve been in a whirlwind of IRL stuff, plus I’m going through it with the BTS fandom right now—I enjoy the fanfic and art that comes out of it, but so much of it is just _toxic_. So here I am, avoiding that, with my first (two) foray(s) into VIXX fic. Aaaand this one’s porn. Surprise?

Wonshik’s back hits the bed and he lets out a breathy laugh as he’s pressed down. The lithe weight currently crowding into his space smells like blue curaçao and mellow cologne and he’s so _turned on_ and they haven’t even done much besides kiss.

Which, admittedly, is nice, the kissing. Hakyeon’s lips were dry when they pressed to Wonshik’s the first time, curved into the smile which hasn’t faded from his lips since they started their week-long Christmas festivities. Wonshik was surprised, at first that he was kissing _Hakyeon_ , and then that it had taken so long to realize that this was _the perfect thing_ to be doing. Hakyeon’s jaw was sharper, maybe, than Wonshik was used to, the skin of his cheek a bit rough from five o’clock shadow.

This is all Jaehwan’s doing, really. They’d been playing a perfectly nice game of Paranoia, which Taekwoon had bowed out of by collapsing sideways on the deck of cards they’d formerly been using to play Ring of Fire. When Jaehwan had whispered in Wonshik’s ear, _If you had to pick one member to kiss right now…_ , Wonshik had not expected his answer of “Cha Hakyeon” to end in Hakyeon tossing back his fruity concoction (involving literal _flower petals_ ) and demanding to know why he was being talked about.

In hindsight, this is the better result. The other option—a stern look and maybe a chastising lecture—is vastly less preferable. Wonshik can hear Hongbin shouting at Sanghyuk in the living room. It’s rapidly drowned out by the blood rushing through his ears as Hakyeon’s lips press to his pulse, one hand finding its way beneath Wonshik’s tank top to run heavily over his skin.

“So pretty, my Wonshikkie,” Hakyeon murmurs to him between scraping his teeth over Wonshik’s collarbones, and Wonshik melts. Melts, into a literal puddle. Soju is crashing through his veins and making him too hot, and Hakyeon’s hand is pushing up, up, until Wonshik has no choice other than to divest himself of his tank top. He subjects himself to Hakyeon’s mouth on his nipples with another breathy laugh, carving his fingers through Hakyeon’s hair as he tries to remember what he’s meant to be doing.

He’s done very little in the way of gay experimentation, considering his longstanding interest. Some obnoxious part of his brain screams shrilly that he should be the one pressing Hakyeon against the mattress, but he’s having such a good time here, letting Hakyeon kiss him. Letting Hakyeon undress him and tell him he’s lovely, he’s pretty, he’s so hot. What a nice body he has, really. Very nice body.

Wonshik’s hands need to be everywhere at once, he decides as Hakyeon is leaving a line of open-mouthed kisses against the tattoo across his pectoral. He tugs idly at Hakyeon’s grey t-shirt, muttering, “Off.” Hakyeon obliges and there’s _skin_ everywhere, and now Wonshik knows where he wants his hands.

He rakes his nails down Hakyeon’s back and Hakyeon pushes him down harder. Their hips fall together and Hakyeon lets out a shaky breath. Wonshik is not so reserved—he moans, and he slides one hand quickly up Hakyeon’s back to his neck, pulling Hakyeon in for another sultry kiss. “Slower,” he pleads, and Hakyeon nods, kisses Wonshik again.

They’re pressed chest-to-chest now, and Wonshik scoots them up the bed with some assistance from Hakyeon. Eventually, Wonshik is reclined against a stack of pillows, Hakyeon’s thighs open across one of Wonshik’s lewdly as they laugh and kiss some more.

In this position, Wonshik is painfully aware of how hard they both are, and really, they’re tipsy, it’s Christmas. Go big or go home, Wonshik thinks. Hakyeon’s skin is tan and warm and tastes of salt when Wonshik pulls away from his lips to suck a dark nipple into his mouth. Hakyeon lets out the happiest little surprised noise, so Wonshik teases him some more, teeth gentle, tongue firm. It turns out that this part isn’t so different from being with a girl, after all.

When Wonshik pulls back, it’s to watch Hakyeon’s eyes go dark as Wonshik presses a hand over Hakyeon’s crotch through his studio pants. Hakyeon isn’t wearing underwear, because of _course_ he isn’t. He never does with these pants. At the look on Hakyeon’s face, Wonshik stills for a second, tugging the corner of his lower lip into his mouth, and that’s just long enough for Hakyeon to take control again, palm chafing against Wonshik’s nipples as his thigh drags against Wonshik’s boxers in a way that makes him moan again, louder. His head hits the wall over the bed with a quiet _thump_.

Hakyeon’s moving now, guiding them into a slow grind as he leans forward to catch Wonshik’s slack mouth. In the haze of combined arousal and alcohol, Wonshik registers that Hakyeon is still far too clothed for Wonshik’s tastes, and he breaks their kiss and their rhythm to rather gracelessly shove both hands down the back of Hakyeon’s pants.

Grace or no, his point is made, and Hakyeon dismounts ( _God_ ) to slide them off and toss them away carelessly. When he comes back, he asks, “Is this okay,” as he slides his thumbs under the waistband of Wonshik’s boxers, and Wonshik says, “Yeah, of course,” and lifts his hips. Any skin is good skin, and now Hakyeon is straddling his hips properly and Hakyeon’s _thighs_ are under Wonshik’s hands.

“What do you want me to do?” Hakyeon is asking, not seductively, but in the same matter-of-fact tone he’d taken earlier. _Soju, beer, vodka—Taekwoonie, you want tequila? You’re sure?_ It cuts right through Wonshik’s lingering tipsiness, his mind responding like a reflex action. He blinks up at Hakyeon and takes a second to formulate an answer.

“God, you’re naked—I just want to, like—touch you, yeah? All over.” Wonshik takes another second, because Hakyeon’s got that smile starting to form on his face again and it’s hard to concentrate when Hakyeon is just _there_. “And you can—get us off together. Please. And kiss me.”

“That’s what you want, Wonshikkie?” Hakyeon teases, but he’s pulling open a drawer of the bedside table to rummage around and grab a bottle of lube, so Wonshik figures that question is mostly rhetorical. He’s swept up in another kiss as Hakyeon’s lubed fingers wrap around them both.

It’s quickly exuberant again, Hakyeon’s hands and lips working Wonshik up from a slow, sultry burn to an intense need. Wonshik runs his hands over Hakyeon’s chest, his back, digs his fingertips into the muscle of Hakyeon’s ass to pull a needy groan from his lips. There are pitched moans resounding through the room and it takes a hot minute for Wonshik to realize that’s him, rolling his hips into Hakyeon’s hand, his cock along Hakyeon’s length so _good_ , and all that tan skin under his hands and his _mouth—_

“Hakyeon, Cha Hakyeon, I’m close, I’m so close—“ His breath is short and Hakyeon’s hand tightens, his hips work just that little bit faster, and Wonshik arches into Hakyeon’s touch and _comes,_ spilling over Hakyeon’s fingers in a rush. Whatever soft, prayer-like noise he makes is muffled against Hakyeon’s lips as his hips quicken before he stiffens, coming across Wonshik’s abs with a shaky exhale.

For a lingering moment, they don’t move, catching their breath. Hakyeon leans back in, dirty hand held awkwardly off to the side, and takes Wonshiks lips in a gentle kiss, almost chaste. “You did so well, pretty Wonshikkie,” Hakyeon hums, and Wonshik makes a wordless, desperate noise. “Are you alright?” Leaderly concern laces his voice now.

“Yeah,” Wonshik responds immediately, fingertips resting against Hakyeon’s neck as he kisses Hakyeon again, a quick peck. “Yeah. Just.” He takes a deep breath. “Can we do that again? Preferably much more often. And sober? God, that was so good. _You_.”

It is a testament to vodka and curaçao that Hakyeon smiles that stupid close-lipped smile and pats Wonshik’s cheek fondly with his free hand. “Ask me again once I’ve dealt with Taekwoonie’s hangover,” he hedges, sliding off Wonshik and heading over to the laundry pile to find a towel. He wipes his hand and tosses it to Wonshik, who swipes at the mess on his stomach until it’s clean enough. He gets a pair of boxers to the face for his efforts, and when he’s half-clothed, he looks up to see Hakyeon back in his low-slung studio pants.

Wonshik stands up and only sways a bit, and then he rounds on Hakyeon, crowding him up against the door, caging him between his arms. Hakyeon tilts his face up obligingly to be thoroughly kissed. His hands drop to Wonshik’s waist and slide around to clasp at the small of his back.

“Of course we can,” Hakyeon says quietly when they part. “When we have time.”

“Good.” Wonshik’s voice comes out low and gravelly. Hakyeon shivers visibly. Wonshik moves to press a kiss behind his ear, lips brushing the shell as he whispers, “We should go back to the party.”

“Mmm,” Hakyeon agrees, tilting his head to the side to let Wonshik’s lips wander. “Pretty,” he murmurs again, hands roaming across Wonshik’s torso idly. “Make out with me some more.”

“Later,” Wonshik counters. “Taekwoon. Cards. Tequila.”

“Right.” Hakyeon breaks away and slips out from Wonshik’s arms, retrieving his t-shirt and donning it. “You can go shirtless and covered in bite marks if you want, but _I_ have to command some kind of respect in this establishment,” he says haughtily. It’s belied by the exaggerated, tipsy roll of his hips. He looks like he’s had a couple of drinks and a good fuck.

When they finally emerge into the living room, Sanghyuk makes a noise like a teakettle at the sight of Wonshik, and Jaehwan dissolves into a fit of laughter so potent Wonshik worries he might suffocate. Hongbin seems to have been rendered speechless, and Taekwoon makes a discontent noise and lifts his head, a playing card stuck to his cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/slowlorisvevo) or [tumblr](http://rapjoonhyung.tumblr.com). Also, if you liked this (or if you hated it) leave me a comment and let me know!


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